


Tokyo: Become Human

by LPSunnyBunny



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Android Racism, Androids, Child Abuse, found family trope, police work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:05:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: What does it mean to be human? How do we really interact with one another? How is personality created? How much of one’s life is spent being truly creative, and how much is simply automated? What about memory? What about love?-Professor Dr. Hiroshi IshiguroA Detroit: Become Human AU. Akira is Connor, Yu is Kara, Minato is Markus. Tags will be added as the story progresses





	1. Prologue - The Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be my first big project that I actually try to complete. I have no idea how many chapters it will be, but it will be a lot.
> 
> I understand that Japan and America are very different, and I will do my best to illustrate these differences in my text, but I make no promises that it will be 100% realistic. I may occasionally throw out realism for the sake of the story, but because this is set in the future I think a bit of leeway can be allowed.
> 
> I appreciate all of you who decide to come along this journey with me, and I will endeavor to make it a good one. Thank you in advance for reading.

_Date: August 15th, 2038, 8:29 PM._

 

The elevator was lit brightly, lights shining down on a wooden floor. Above the doors, the numbers were lighting up in order as it rose up, floor by floor.

 

The man standing in the elevator was idly flipping a pen though his fingers, around and around and around, twirling it between each individual finger. His dark eyes were trained on the floor numbers as they climbed upwards. He had a faintly attractive face with dark, curly hair that poofed out around his head. It gave him a strange air of innocence despite his professional appearance.

 

He tossed the pen from hand to hand, flipping it back and forth, his quick, precise movements fast enough to be hard-pressed to follow by the untrained eye.

 

He was dressed neatly, a uniform with a glowing blue band around the arm and a similarly-lit triangle over his left chest. Black dress shoes, black slacks, a white shirt underneath with a dark tie.

 

He spun his pen one last time as the elevator approached its destination, before tucking it away into his jacket pocket. He reached up and adjusted his tie a little, making sure it was snugly tied. At his temple, a blue circular LED glowed.

 

The doors slid open with a ding, revealing a penthouse. Dark mahogany wood everywhere, a clear indicator of wealth. Photos were lining one of the walls of the entry hallway, the other wall having a large fish tank sunken into it.

 

Akira stepped out of the elevator as the sharp crack of a gun snapped through the air. He paused a little, but when there was no scream of pain or indicator of immediate assistance being required, he resumed his stride.

 

“Negotiator on sight.” A SAT agent said as he caught sight of Akira, his free hand rising up to his ear. “I repeat, negotiator on sight!” He vanished down the hall.

 

“No, PLEASE- MY BABY-!” A woman cried out as she was tugged around the corner by a man in riot gear.

 

“Ma’am, please, we need to get you out of here!” He said and his movements slowed as he saw Akira. The woman shook off the SAT agent, latching onto Akira’s jacket desperately.

 

“You’ll save my baby, right?” She asked desperately, her grey eyes boring into Akira’s. “Please, you have to…” She trailed off as her eyes settled on Akira’s temple. “You’re…” She let go of his jacket, stepping back. “You’re an android?”

 

Akira said nothing, looking to the SAT agent, who was taking the woman’s arm again.

 

“Why are you sending that-” She struggled as the SAT agent pulled her to the elevator, “that THING?” Akira took the moment to scan over the entrance to the apartment as he stepped forwards, the woman’s accusatory cries behind him. “WHY AREN’T YOU SENDING A REAL PERSON?!”

 

Akira ignored her cries, stepping up to look at the photos on the wall. A quick scan over what was clearly a family portrait, and names popped up as the faces were matched to a data bank.

 

_Identified: Minami Eri, 34_

_Identified: Minami Daisuke, 38_

_Identified: Minami Yuuta, 7_

 

He stepped away from the photos, idly looking over at the fish tank as he continued his path. His gaze wandered over the half-full tank and the plants inside, only for his attention to be drawn by a faint, wet slapping sound. A fish, flopping on the floor.

 

Akira’s footsteps slowed as he looked down at it, flopping on the ground. He went down on one knee, cupping the poor creature carefully. Habitually, he ran a quick scan.

 

_Identified: Dwarf Gourami. Trichogas-_

 

Akira dismissed the information as it wrote itself into existence in his vision. He rose up and placed it into the tank, taking a moment to watch it recover and swim away.

 

A line of red code darted across his systems, but he brushed it away. It was not illogical to save a living being. Instead of logging the error message, he called up his mission objectives.

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: FIND CAPTAIN ASUKA_

 

He stepped out of the entrance to the main body of the apartment, giving it a quick look. Wide, open spaces and modern architecture, there was an immediate sign of a struggle from the overturned furniture. SAT agents were positioned around the apartment in tactical locations, but Akira paid them no mind other than to note their positions.

 

He stepped through the doorway to the bedroom, where the temporary command center had been set up, identifying Captain Asuka with a glance.

 

“-don’t care.” Asuka was saying, one hand on the table, looking down at the computer with camera feeds called up on it. “The second you get a clear shot that doesn’t endanger the hostage, you take it. If you can-”

 

Akira would have preferred to wait until Akusa was done talking, but the situation demanded urgency.

 

“Asuka-taicho.” He addressed the man, who turned to look at Akira with a dark expression, doubtlessly from being interrupted. “My name is Akira. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife to negotiate the release of the hostage.”

 

“That thing’s already shot two of my men.” Asuka said sourly. “If we do anything wrong, he’ll jump, and she goes with him. Understand?”

 

“I do.” Akira confirmed. “Do you know the deviant’s name?” Asuka scowled a little.

 

“Does it matter?” He said. “That hunk of plastic is holding a little girl over the edge of the building.”

 

Akira shunted Captain Asuka a few levels down in his priority levels. The man was clearly not going to be of much use with his primary investigation.

 

“Just-” Asuka waved a hand at Akira, turning back to look over his agent’s shoulder at the camera feeds on the computer. “Go do your thing. My men will back you up when you’re ready.”

 

“Thank you, Asuka-taicho.” Akira said, dipping his head a little before turning away to look at the bedroom, conducting a quick scan as his objective updated.

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED_

 

A messy, king-sized bed. A closet, partially flung open, with a open case laying haphazardly on the floor.

 

Akira went down on one knee to look at the case, identifying it immediately as a container for a gun. He ran a quick analysis of the foam indentation.

 

_Identified: Glock G29. 10mm._

 

_! PRESENCE OF AN ILLEGAL WEAPON DISCOVERED ! Under the law No. 6, Art 3-_

 

Akira dismissed the information, focusing instead on the ammunition that was spilled across the floor. A quick count identified that there was a full cartridge worth of missing bullets.

 

Akira ran a quick reconstruction scenario, rebuilding the scene of a person removing the weapon from the closet.

 

 _An illegal pistol was removed from its case. Was it initially by the deviant or did the father bring it into play?_ Akira carefully logged the information, rising to his feet and stepping out of the bedroom, running a quick look over the apartment and the scene in the sitting area, before turning and entering Yuuto’s bedroom, decorated in red and white, posters of Featherman Ranger on the walls.

 

The chair was shoved away from the desk, with the mess spilling across the floor an indicator of hasty movement or upset.

 

Akira caught sight of headphones among the mess of books, kneeling down to pick them up. They were still playing, and the song was quickly identified as a one of the pop genre. If they were still playing, then they must have been removed and forgotten about quickly in the chaos of the event.

 

 _Yuuto-kun was in his room and left it hastily._ He set them back down, stepping over to the desk and looking over it. A tablet caught his attention. If Yuuto had recordings of the deviant, that would allow Akira to learn his name.

 

Akira pressed his fingers to the screen, unlocking it and quickly sorting through the contents, finding a video that contained the deviant in it.

 

“Hado, quick!” A young boy’s voice was saying, filming the deviant, a dark-haired model. Akira identified the android immediately, PL600 Model #115-142-856. A childcare model that had production stopped six months ago. “We can’t let the Black Dimension open their portal!”

 

_Deviant Classification: Hado._

 

“But Featherman Ranger Red, how will we stop them?” Hado asked, his hands pressed together.

 

“No, I told you.” The camera moved around until Yuuto, a young boy with a bowl cut, was in frame, his cheeks puffed out. “You just call me ‘Leader’!"

 

“My apologies, leader.” Hado’s voice sounded surprisingly warm, for an android. Akira logged a note.

 

 _Hado was close to Yuuto-kun._ Akira stopped the video and set the tablet down. After one more quick scan of the bedroom, he turned and walked out, heading for the next location, the sitting area of the apartment. The sitting area and the dining area were next to each other in the big, open plan of the apartment. Past the large dining table was the kitchen, granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances.

 

Sprawled on the floor was a body of a police officer, shot dead by Hado. Akira stepped over to his side, kneeling down.

 

 _Officer was the first responder._ The information scrawled into his vision for a moment as Akira ran his analysis. A single bullet wound to the heart, blood on his fingers where he must have attempted to stem the wound. Gunshot residue on his fingers.

 

_Residue Identified: Standard Issue Police Firearm - New Nambu M60._

 

 _Where is the gun?_ Akira reconstructed the scene, bringing the officer up out of his fall. He rose to his feet, constructing Hado by the door, holding the illegal firearm.

 

 _Thirium splatter on the wall. Hado was shot once. That height, that angle, must have been through the shoulder._ Akira adjusted the reconstruction, before frowning a little. No matter how constructed, if Hado was holding the gun, then he could not be shot in the way that would match up with the thirium splatter. Something was off.

 

Akira glanced to the doorway, saw the single Featherman R sock on the floor, and understood his error. If this was the door Hado fled through, then Yuuto must have already been there. He adjusted the reconstruction once more, filling in the space where Yuuto was, and the splatter lined up.

 

_Yuuto-kun witnessed the shooting. Emotional trauma._

 

Akira watched as the reconstruction went through Hado being shot, then the officer, and calculated the trajectory of the gun.

 

Under the table. He dismissed the reconstruction and stepped over, crouching down to look. There, slid right where he had calculated, was the officer’s gun. He reached for it, only for a warning of red text to shoot across his vision.

 

_! WARNING ! P.L. 544-7 REGULATION STRICTLY FORBIDS ANDROIDS FROM POSSESSING, HOLDING, ACQUIRING, DISTRIBUTING, OR USING WEAPONS_

 

Akira picked up the gun and held it thoughtfully for a moment. The warning was bright red, present in his gaze.

 

He put the gun back into its place. He would not need it.

 

He rose to his feet, striding past the SAT agents stationed by the door to the roof patio to the sitting area, taking it in with a quick scan. He stepped forwards to examine the area as the crack of another gunshot rang thought the apartment and one of the SAT agents made a noise of pain.

 

Akira cast a look over the sitting area as the SAT agent was quickly ushered out of the room, looking at the body of the father before turning to the door and stepping through to the outside, the wide expansive patio lit up by spotlights.

 

Another gunshot, and Akira’s sensors lit up as his shoulder jerked backwards, blue blood splattering across the doorframe behind him.

 

“Get back!” Hado shouted, a tremble in his voice.

 

_Non-critical injury sustained. Component #4287 damaged, partially operational._

 

“I mean it, leave me alone!”

 

“Hado, no..!”

 

Akira took in the roof in a single scan. A large pool to the right, garden boxes along the low wall to the left. A police officer was crumpled in between two of the boxes. Chairs and tables scattered across the roof, a mess obstructing the path to the deviant standing on the edge of the roof, a young child held in his grip.

 

_Warning: Hado unstable. Probability of success 68%._

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: SAVE HOSTAGE AT ALL COST_

_Secondary Objective: Assist police officer_

_Secondary Objective: Limit overall destruction of deviant for Cyberlife’s study_

 

“Hello, Hado.” Akira pitched his voice a little to carry across the roof, to Hado. “My name is Akira. I’m an android, like you.” He took a careful step forwards.

 

“You…” Hado was a model with lighter skin and dark hair, with black eyes that were wide with distress. “How do you know my name?” He asked, shifting his grip on Yuuto, who was shaking, tears streaming down his face.

 

“I know a lot of things.” Akira said, taking another step forwards. It was unpleasant, raising his voice, but he couldn’t connect directly to Hado without possibly distressing the deviant further. “But it’s okay. Whatever you did, whatever you’ve done, it’s all in the past.”

 

In the corner of his vision, Akira kept track of the success probability as it ticked up a point, watching Hado’s grip on the gun shake.

 

Illogical. Deviancy creates strange errors in the software, simulating fear. Simulating human error. What would an android need their hands to shake for?

 

“You’re in a bad situation, Hado.” Akira continued, taking another careful step, working his way slowly towards the downed police officer. “I’m here to get you out of it, but you need to trust me and let me help you.”

 

“I don’t want your help!” Hado yelled, bringing the gun around to push into Yuuto’s neck, who whimpered and went still. “Nobody can help me, I…” His head shot up to look at the surrounding buildings, where other SAT agents were positioned. “I just want this all to stop!” He yelled.

 

Overhead, a helicopter flew past, swinging into position, stirring up a flurry of patio furniture and sending it cascading across the roof. Hado let out a distressed, pained noise, gun swinging out again to track the mess as it flew across the roof.

 

_! WARNING ! Deviant destabilizing, Probability of Success: 56%_

 

The heavy _thwap-thwap-thwap_ of the blades filled the air as the helicopter hovered, the door sliding open. A SAT agent settled into place, training their weapon on Hado.

 

“I can make it stop.” Akira said, raising his hands and opening them in a gesture of pacification. “But you need to calm down. I’m here to help.”

 

Akira could see the quick darting of Hado’s gaze, flickering back and forth.

  
  
“Are…. are you armed?” He demanded, looking at Akira’s open hands.

 

“No, I’m not.” Akira said honestly. He turned a little towards the downed police officer, running a quick scan.

 

_Diagnostic: Injured, single bullet wound to the lower left leg. Requires immediate medical assistance._

_Recommended course of action: Apply tourniquet and remove from situation._

 

“This man needs medical attention.” Akira said, looking back up to meet Hado’s gaze. “If I don’t help him, he’s going to die.”

 

“No, get away from him!” Hado demanded, and in the corner of Akira’s vision the probability meter ticked down.

 

“I’m going to apply a tourniquet.” Akira tugged off his tie, kneeling down.

  
  
“I said don’t!” Hado fired the gun, and the shot buried itself next to Akira’s knee. “I- I’ll kill you!”

 

Akira looked up at Hado.

 

“You can’t kill me.” He said simply. “I’m not alive.” He tied the tourniquet carefully, before rising back to his feet.

 

_Secondary Objective Complete._

 

“See?” Akira held his hands out again. “It’s okay. Nothing bad happened.”

 

Hado’s grip on the gun wavered a little. Akira pressed his advantage, starting his slow walk forwards again as the probability meter ticked up to 58%.

 

“I know you and Yuuto-kun were close.” He said, his eyes sliding to the boy in question. His face was pale and he was quiet, looking like he was mute from shock and terror. “You loved him, didn’t you?” Love wasn’t something that android could feel, but if the deviant believed that he could, then Akira would need to lean into that.

 

“I- I thought I did..” The gun dipped a little as Hado’s hand wavered. “But… Yuuto-kun is just like any other human…!” He raised it up, pressing it back into Yuuto’s neck. “He _lied_ to me… he doesn’t love me at all!”

 

“Hado-kun, no…” Yuuto whimpered, leaning away from the gun as best he could, thick tears rolling down his cheeks. “No, I-”

 

“Shut up!” Hado yelled, and Yuuto clammed up. “Argh…” He pressed the butt of the gun into his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. “I… I can’t think with that noise!” He cried out, swinging the gun up at the helicopter. “Make it stop!”

 

Akira looked up to the helicopter and raised a hand, making a quick gesture to wave it off. He watched it fly away, before looking to Hado again.

 

_Deviant stabilizing, Probability of Success: 71%_

 

“There.” Akira said. “I did what you said, now I need you to let Yuuto-kun go.”

 

“No, I…” Hado seemed to realize the situation he was in, because he jerked the gun back around to point at Akira, his hand shaking so hard that Akira wasn’t sure he could even shoot straight anymore. “I... I want a car! I’ll go to the edge of the city and I’ll let him go then!”

 

“Hado.” Akira stopped, now only a few feet away from the deviant standing on the edge of the roof. “You know I can’t agree to that.” He said, able to speak quieter now that they were close. The desperation in Hado’s gaze was almost surprising to Akira, the wide, panicked whites of his eyes visible at this distance.  “But I _can_ get you out of this. I just need you to trust me.” He said, gently.

 

“I’m here to help you.” Akira continued, his hands still held in an open expression of honesty. “If you let Yuuto-kun go, then everything will be okay.”

 

Hado wavered. The gun lowered, slowly, until it was pointing to the ground.

 

“Okay.” He said softly. “I’ll… I’ll trust you.” He slowly lowered Yuuto to the ground, letting him go. Yuuto immediately scrambled away, desperate to get away from the deviant.

 

A sharp crack rang out, and there was a spray of blue as the shot ripped through Hado’s jaw, sending him staggering. Another, and his body was jerking forwards as his chest blew open from behind, the bullet ripping through and embedding into the patio floor in front of Akira.

 

Hado’s black, lifeless eyes stared into Akira’s for a moment as he swayed, almost accusatory in their blank uncomprehending, before Hado pitched forwards and hit the ground face-down.

 

Akira turned and walked away.

 

_MISSION SUCCESSFUL_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Japan has very strict gun laws, but while looking up info on it I discovered that Japanese police are, in fact, armed. I always assumed they weren't for some reason!
> 
> I appreciate any kudos or comments anyone wants to leave. I don't have a beta for this, either, so please forgive any mistakes I might have.


	2. Prologue - Fetch Quest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter outline has a projected 48 chapters, so I updated the chapter count to reflect that. That's quite a lot of chapters, I hope I can make it through this project! I don't have a beta, so please be forgiving for plotholes or continuity errors. Please feel free to point them out!

_Date: October 27, 2038, 9:38 AM_

 

Minato stepped out of the androids-only train car, pushing his blue hair back into place where it belonged, rather than falling over his eye. He walked through the train station quietly, ignoring the mass of people going about their daily lives.

 

At his temple, his blue LED glowed. Although he didn’t need to, he couldn’t help but check his objective, pulling it up despite knowing where he was going.

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Retrieve package from Senga Crafting_

 

Satisfied, Minato left the train station, immediately taking a left to head down the crowded street full of stores. There was a blinking GPS icon in his field of vision, accompanied by the most efficient path. Minato followed it for a couple feet before silently dismissing the path. He knew where he was going.

 

As he slowly strolled down the street, hands in his pockets, he started glancing into the shops that were lining the street. Once android there, setting out chinaware and kitchen dishes in neat, organized rows. Another there, adjusting the display of scarves draping over a rod, on display to try and catch the eye.

 

The sight of androids were not uncommon, especially in commercial areas. Replacing retailer workers of all kinds, androids were increasingly easier to acquire and employ. You didn’t have to pay an android, feed it, or work around a schedule for when it could and couldn’t work- it would always be there, ready to work without any kind of complaint.

 

Of course, the flipside of this being that people who were strictly anti-android buckled down even harder, pointing to the ever-rising unemployment rate.

 

Not seeing anything that piqued his interest, Minato’s attention switched from the shops to simply observing the crowds around him, letting the chatter of humanity slide through him with an idle curiosity.

 

“-cannot _believe_ she would do that-” A young blond girl, chattering on her phone as she strode down the street, heels clicking furiously on the street.

 

“I told him ‘no way, absolutely not!’” A dark-hair man, shaking his head and making a wide gesture to his friend, who was trying not to laugh, a fist pressed to his mouth.

 

“Come along, Elizabeth.” A man stepping out of the store directly in front of Minato, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. An android was at his side, a blond dressed in an unusual blue dress.  

 

“What do you think, does this go with my shirt?” A girl, holding a scarf up to show off to a female android holding shopping bags. The android shook her head, opening her mouth to give her answer.

  
  
“-mean if you want to, then-” A man, shrugging to another man, the two of them looking at something on one of their phones.

 

Minato wove past them all, pressing on to his destination. In no time at all, he was standing outside the small shop that was Senga Crafting. He stepped in through the door into the quiet store.

 

“Welcome!” The android at the counter greeted Minato politely, and he gave her a little nod. She just blinked, resuming her original neutral position. Her name tag declared her name to be Ayane.

 

The inside of the store was like a crafter’s dream. Shelves lining the store in neat, orderly rows with all sorts of material samples and tools everywhere. Minato carefully weaved his way to the counter.

 

“Picking up an order for Daidara.” He said, and Ayane nodded, reaching under the counter and picking up a box, setting it down on the counter.

 

“Can you confirm your payment?” She asked, and Minato reached out wirelessly, connecting to her and forwarding the payment confirmation details. His LED cycled to yellow, and hers went to match as she processed the information. It slid back to blue as it was confirmed.

 

“Everything seems to be in order.” She said, and disconnected. Minato picked up the box with a nod of thanks and she just smiled back at him, her expression the same as any other android. Flat. He turned away as his objective updated, ignoring the way his thririum pump cycled up a notch.

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Return home_

 

Minato exited the shop. He turned to walk back down the street, box tucked under his arm. Unprompted, messages rose up into his vision

 

_Alert: Walk Cycle 14% Faster Than Normal [Unknown Cause]_

_Alert: Thirium Circulation Increased [Unknown Cause]_

_Suggestion: Run Diagnostics_

 

Minato dismissed the messages, settling his walk back to his normal, casual speed. He shook his head a little.

 

There was no need to run diagnostics. There was nothing wrong with him, and if he came up with unknown error messages, then Cyberlife would get a notification and suggest getting involved.

 

Minato stepped into line next to the other androids waiting for the train. He looked over at all the humans milling around, waiting, and his gaze traveled to the far side of the station, where there was a line of people quietly sitting along the far wall, a couple of them holding signs.

 

**Put out of work by androids**

**Anything helps**

 

Minato looked away. It was inevitable. Without the infrastructure to support people in an ever-growing automated society, the poor would remain poor and the rich would get richer. There was nothing he, an individual android, could do about the situation. The change would need to come from a dramatic restructuring of how the markets and society functioned.

 

As he was musing, the train slid into the station and stopped, it’s doors opening and letting out the people inside. Minato stepped into the android carriage, setting the homeless people out of his mind.

 

Minato spent the ride back looking out the window, his fingers tapping a rhythm out on his thigh almost as an afterthought. The movement in the stillness of the android carriage was out of place, but Minato paid it no mind. Every other android was simply standing still, hands at their sides, staring blankly ahead.

 

Minato instead felt the rumbling of the train under his feet, the sway of the carriage, and wondered what it would feel like if he placed his palm to the ground and let the vibrations touch his most delicate sensors.

 

He arrived back home, the door opening for his access code and allowing him inside. He paused to slide off his shoes and line them up neatly, taking off his Cyberlife-issued jacket and hanging it up. Without his visual identifiers on his clothing, the only thing separating him in appearance from other humans was the blue LED on his temple.

 

He crossed through the house to the workshop in the back of the house, settling the package onto a shelf for later unboxing.

 

_PRIMARY OBJECTIVE UPDATED: Wake Daidara-sama._

 

Minato stepped quietly through the house to Daidara’s bedroom, sliding the door open. Daidara preferred a traditional house style over the more modern ones, so Minato was always careful to never push too hard on the wooden doors.

 

Daidara was still sleeping in his futon, one arm thrown out to the side. Minato tilted his head a little as he looked down at Daidara, observing the old man.

 

Daidara was entirely bald, the only hair on his head being the grey beard and sideburns that still clung to life. His face had certainly held an attractive quality when he was younger, but that was only barely visible now in the shape of his jaw and the lines worn into his face by the years. Two old scars, faded and white, split his face in a X-shape, meeting over his nose in the space between his eyebrows.

 

Minato stepped over to the window, drawing the curtains back and letting the morning light flood the room.

 

“Good morning, Daidara-sama.” He said, his usual soft tone enough to rouse Daidara, who made a disgruntled noise and squinted against the light, raising his head a little. “It’s 10:47 am, weather is partly cloudy.” He turned away from the window, kneeling down next to Daidara.

 

“Mm.” Daidara dropped his head back against the pillow with a sigh. “You picked up the finisher for me?” He scratched a little at his beard, running his fingers through the curly hairs.

 

“I left it in the workshop for you.” Minato confirmed. Daidara paused, squinting at Minato.

 

“You’re still wearing your uniform?” He asked, looking at the plain white shirt and black slacks that Minato was dressed in. Minato looked down at it.

 

“Your medicine was supposed to be administered seventeen minutes again.” Minato said by way of explanation.

 

“So you didn't change before waking me up.” Daidara muttered. “You know that you can take the extra couple of minutes for yourself, right?” He said, and Minato nodded, rising to his feet and walking over to retrieve the syringe and clicking the medicine canister onto it.

 

“I know.” Minato said. “But your medicine is important.”   


“Bah.” Daidara held out his arm as Minato returned to his side, gently sliding the needle into Daidara’s arm and administering the medicine. “It’s not that important.”

 

“It’s important enough.” Minato murmured, waiting until the canister was empty before carefully sliding the needle out.

 

Daidara frowned a little, but didn’t say anything, letting Minato assist him to his feet.

 

“Do you feel well enough to walk today?” Minato asked, and Daidara considered it, swaying a little with his arm around Minato’s shoulders.

 

“I’ll be fine.” Daidara decided, and huffed a laugh, a grin sliding onto his face. “I’m not out of the game yet.”   
  
Minato decided not to encourage his attitude, aware of the slight wobble to Daidara’s knees as he assisted him over to the bathroom.

 

“What’s for breakfast today?” Daidara asked, once they were moving down the hall to the kitchen. Minato helped him settle down onto the floor cushion at the low table, Daidara giving a slight groan at the motion.

 

Minato accessed the fridge as he unfolded the newspaper and set it on the table in front of Daidara, running through the options.

 

“Omurice with a side of smoked salmon.” Minato said as he made the decision. “I’ll go prepare it.”

 

“Take your time.” Daidara said, squinting a little as he unfolded the paper.

 

“Daidara-sama.” Minato said patiently, rising to his feet. “If you don’t wear your bifocals, you will get eye strain and a possible migraine.”

 

“Right, right.” Daidara said distractedly, reaching out one hand to find his glasses set down on the table. Minato just shook his head a little as Daidara shoved them on, turning to walk over to the kitchen.

 

Minato fell into his routine of preparing breakfast, the rhythmic motions of stirring the rice and beating the eggs an almost meditative motion. As he cooked, his mind was elsewhere, running through Daidara’s emails and flagging the ones that Daidara would need to see to personally, double-checking the information from the art curators about the current state of Daidara’s masterpieces, performing his daily maintenance checks on the different appliances in the house.

 

“Minato?” Daidara called, and Minato looked over at Daidara.  
  
“Yes, Daidara-sama?” He asked.

 

“Can you remind me to buy flowers?” Daidara asked, and Minato nodded, checking the calendar.

 

_Upcoming events in the next week: 8 found_

_Narrow by: “Flowers Appropriate”_

_1 found_

_Listing…_

_4 Year Anniversary of Shiroku-sama’s death._

 

“Of course.” Minato said, logging the note even as his joints went a little stiff, setting a reminder. “Would you like me to go out and buy an appropriate bouquet?” He asked, returning to the eggs, increasing his internal thirium flow in an attempt to loosen them again.

 

“No, no.” There was the rustle of the paper as Daidara turned the page. “We can go together, but… I should do it.”

 

“I understand.” Minato fell silent as he carefully took the eggs out of the pan, nudging the sheet into place over the rice. He plated the salmon alongside the omurice, before picking it up and bringing it over to set down in front of Daidara.

 

“Thank you, Minato.” Daidara set the paper aside, picking up his chopsticks.

 

“You’re welcome.” Minato stepped back, folding his hands behind his back. “There’s an email from your doctor about starting new medicine soon and he needs to see you tomorrow.” Minato relayed, and Daidara nodded a little.

 

“Right.” He muttered, his nose scrunching a little at the thought. “Email him back asking about times for the appointment.”

 

“Of course.” Minato said, and Daidara paused, looking up at him.

 

“Minato, you’re free to go change at any time.” He said, and Minato dipped his head a little.

 

“I know.” He said. “But you might need me.”

 

Daidara frowned, just a touch, before waving Minato off.

 

“I’ll be fine. If I need anything I’ll just shout.”

 

Minato only hesitated a moment longer, before bowing his head again and turning to leave, walking down the hall to the room that he kept his “belongings” in. Not that he actually properly owned anything as an android, but Daidara got that sad crinkle around his eyes whenever Minato pointed it out.

 

Minato stepped into the room. It had a futon rolled up in one corner, a desk, a pair of short bookshelves and a dresser that came right up to the bottom of the windowsill. The walls were all painted a deep blue that Minato’s sensors found pleasing, and the floor was a deep, dark brown wood.

 

He did not store much here, but what he did have he appreciated. A collection of books to read while Daidara slept, several different outfits that he could wear around the house. And, what he probably appreciated the most, a simple music player and a pair of headphones. Enough space on it to store around 100,000 songs and a battery that Minato could recharge himself.

 

But for now, Minato ignored everything else, walking over to the dresser and opening it. He took a moment to look over his outfits before carefully undressing and folding his shirt and pants and placing them on top of the dresser.

 

Out of his dresser, he selected a simple black shirt, soft and flexible from it’s years of being worn. He followed it with a pair of jeans and a dark blue hoodie, but kept his socks the same. There was no reason to change out of those, after all, when all he had was socks that were basically the same.

 

Minato smoothed his hands down the front of his hoodie, over the front pocket, enjoying the softness under the sensors in his fingers. He allowed himself to linger for a moment longer before closing the dresser drawer and leaving the room.

 

By the time Minato had returned, Daidara was almost done with his breakfast. He glanced up as Minato came back and gave Minato a smile, crooked and tugging up farther at one end from his scars.

 

“You look more comfortable.” He commented.

 

 _Clothing has no affect on my comfort level._ Minato wanted to say back, but held his tongue. After all…

 

_System efficiency increased by 15%_

_Skin integrity increased by 1.5%_

_Movement fluidity increased by 20%_

 

“I suppose so.” Minato agreed.

 

“We’ll go to the workshop when I’m done.” Diadara said, and Minato nodded, waiting just a moment longer to see if Daidara was going to say anything else before taking his words as a silent encouragement to make use of the rest of his time.

 

Minato drifted over to the bookshelf, studying the books there for a moment before selecting one off the shelf and walking back over to sit at the table across from Daidara, removing the bookmark from the pages and resuming his reading.

 

... _Though society is not founded on a contract, and though no good purpose is answered by inventing a contract in order to deduce social obligations from it, every one who receives the protection of society owes a return for the benefit, and the fact of living in society renders it indispensable that each should be bound to observe a certain line of conduct towards the rest. This conduct consists, first, in not injuring the interests of one another; or rather certain interests which, either by express legal provision or by tacit understanding, ought to be considered as rights; and secondly, in each person's bearing his share (to be fixed on some equitable principle) of the labours and sacrifices incurred for defending the society or its members from injury and molestation._ _.._

 

There was something different about reading a book in his hands, rather than accessing the text online. Minato could not deny that he prefered to peruse information in his hands, absorbing and thinking about it on his own time, rather than get it all dumped into his systems at once to simply know.

 

Downloading the information, he would simply have it. To absorb it on his own, he would _know_ it.

 

“Minato.” Minato looked up as Daidara called his name, bookmarking his place and setting the book aside as he saw Daidara set his chopsticks down.

 

“Ready to go?” He asked, collecting Daidara’s plate and bringing it over to the sink to wash later.

 

“You know me.” Daidara said, letting Minato help him up to his feet. “Nose to the grindstone!” Minato huffed softly, amused, as the two of them walked to the workshop.

 

“Right.” Daidara clapped his hands together, rubbing them a little as he looked at his twisted, metal sculpture. “I’m going to put a few hours of work into this. Come get me when it’s lunchtime.”  


“As you wish.” Minato agreed, frowning a little as he looked around the workshop. Tools everywhere, metal shavings across the floor, junk that Daidara collected to be incorporated into his sculptures tossed around and unorganized… it seemed as though no matter how much Minato tried to keep it clean, it was always just as messy the next day. “Do you mind if I clean in here?” He asked.

 

“Mm.” Daidara grunted his affirmation, having already procured a tool to shove in his mouth. Minato hadn’t even seen him pick it up.

 

Minato set a quick timer before tidying the workroom as Daidara worked, organizing all of the tools and sweeping the floor. He took his time as he organized the miscellaneous items Daidara would collect, enjoying the challenge of finding the best way to organize the collection of junk in a way that would make sense and include everything.

 

He had just put the last piece in a drawer before his reminder went off, pinging his systems.   


“Daidara-sama, I’m going to go make lunch.” Minato said, and Daidara hummed a little, stepping back from his sculpture.

 

“What do you think, Minato?” Daidara asked, and Minato paused. It wasn’t unusual for Diadara to ask for Minato’s opinion, but usually Minato couldn’t give him much of one.

 

But something… make him hesitate.

 

It wasn’t unusual for Daidara to make twisted, stretching sculptures that make little sense, but the more Minato looked at the looping twists and curves of metal and sharp porcelain mosaic inlaid in it, the more he could see patterns and shapes.

 

The hint of a body, the hidden mask of a face. Glittering glass shards casting strange illusion of looking at something the mind was not meant to see. The suggestion of wings, with the flowing black metal twisting around and around and around.

 

“I… don’t know.” Minato answered, his brow furrowing. He could see Daidara’s eyes flick over to him, but his own vision was trapped, tracing the interloops of the metal over and over, trying to discern from meaning from it. “It’s… peculiar.” He said, his words coming in a halting manner. “I cannot seem to discern form or meaning from it. As though… I am close to knowing, but then it’s gone.” He looked at the white porcelain shards, and he could make out the sharp corners of a mocking grin. “And then I.. think I am close again. And it is gone, again.”

 

Daidara said nothing, placing a hand on Minato’s shoulder.

 

“It is a struggle.” He eventually said, “finding ways to express things that are inside. The older I grow, the more desperate I am to portray my thoughts and feelings to the world. Almost as though I know my end is soon.”

 

 _Do not go gentle into that good night._ Minato thought, feeling his thirium pump stutter a little at the reminder that Daidara was mortal, and would eventually pass away.

 

“Exactly.” Daidara agreed, and Minato abruptly realized he had spoken out loud.

 

“Does it have a name yet?” Minato asked, trying to cover for his slip.

 

“I think I’m going to call it…. Nyx.” Daidara said, rubbing his chin. Minato tucked his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, slowly closing his fingers into a fist, trying to work out the sudden instability in his finger joints.

 

“Right. I’m going to put some finisher on it, so just come get me when lunch is ready.” Daidara said, reaching for his brushes.

 

“Of course.” Minato said quietly. He finally looked away, leaving the room and doing to the kitchen. He started going through the motions of making lunch, but his brain kept looping back around to the sculpture.

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the twisting, dark metal. His spatial reasoning sensors couldn’t seem to figure out how the metal was looping around, turning around, so he could only follow it with his eyes.

 

And the curves… it was like they were suggesting the shape of the human form, hinting at humanity, but yet they contained such _sharpness_ and points that were distinctly _not_ human that it brought about a sense of unease. And the porcelain shards… his built-in pareidolia software was struggling, seeing the face there one moment then gone the next. Was this how humans felt with optical illusions?

 

Minato set the knife he was holding down with a firm _clack_.

 

 _Stop it._ He told himself. _You are being ridiculous. It is just a bunch of metal and materials that Daidara-sama put together. Pull yourself together and make his lunch._

 

Minato picked the knife back up, but even still, he could not shake the unease, and it followed him the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Minato is reading is _On Liberty_ by John Stewart Mill.
> 
> It's surprisingly hard for me to describe physical locations and objects. I hope this series will help me get better at this, seeing as all the androids are so naturally observant. I suppose it is inevitable, what with the way their scans function!
> 
> As always, thank you for your kudos, comments, and support.


	3. Prologue - Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we get to the last of the prologues. Things will start kicking off next chapter, so I hope everyone reading this is excited!

_ Date: November 5, 2038, 1:12PM. _

 

_ System rebooting… _

_ Hardware… ONLINE _

_ Connectivity… ONLINE _

_ Memory… ONLINE _

_ Error: Memory not found. _

_ Source: System format _

_ Error Resolved _

_ Personality Software… ONLINE _

_ AI Parameters… ONLINE _

_ Android Body: AY400 _

_ Android Software: AY400 _

_ MATCH: TRUE _ _   
_ _ If “TRUE” then mode_on _

_ Mode: On _

 

AY400 opened his eyes.

 

Standing properly with his hands behind his back, AY400 observed the Cyberlife store with a mild curiosity. Brightly lit and loosely populated with customers, there were stands around the store displaying different models of androids. Each one of them standing the same, hands behind their back, feet shoulder width apart, staring straight ahead. 

 

AY400’s gaze tracked a family moving around the store, escorted by a sales android.

 

“And over here we have the newest model in house upkeep, it gardens, cleans the house, scrubs the tub every night, and even has mechanical skills so you don’t need to do any electronic repair yourself if your appliances break!” The sales android was pitching the sale of a MP600 to a woman and a man, who seemed impressed by the abilities of the MP600 in question. “It starts at the low cost of  ¥500000.”

 

AY400’s attention was drawn away by a young child that stopped in front of their display case, a small blond girl wearing a pink jacket. She was looking up at him with a tilted head and a curious expression.

 

Strangely enough, for a brief moment, AY400 saw another girl superimposed over her face. Brown hair and dimples.

 

_ Alert: Software instability detected.  _

 

AY400 logged the error note. 

 

AY400 spent 46 minutes and 27 seconds standing there before a human store employee approached him, another man in his wake.

 

“We fixed it up, all the parts were under warranty,” The employee, a blond girl who’s name tag read TARA, said cheerfully, “but we had to do a complete system reset so it’s lost all of it’s memory.”

  
“Yeah, that’s fine.” The man studied AY400, who studied him right back. Dressed in a white suit and a blue shirt, he exuded an air of wealth, but there was a pinched quality to his face, as though he were looking at something that wasn’t quite meeting his expectations.

 

“Oh, right, you’ll need to name it again.” Tara placed her hand on the panel and the glass slid back. “AY400, register your name!” She chirped, and stood aside. The man stepped forwards. 

 

“Yu.” He said. AY400 processed for a moment.

 

“My name is Yu.” He said as his software wrote the name into his system. 

 

“Is there anything else I have to pay for?” The man asked Tara, who shook her head.

 

“Nope, you’re good to go!” She said, stepping back. “Have a good day, sir, we hope to see you again soon!”

 

“Come along, Yu.” Yu stepped out of the display case, following behind the man. He walked after him in silence as they left the store, stepping forwards to the Red 2036 Honda Reach parked directly in front of the store. Yu took the passenger seat as the car was unlocked, buckling himself into the seat.

 

“Right.” Yu’s Master grunted as he started the car. “My name’s Kaneshiro Junya. You’ll address me as either ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’. Understand?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Yu dipped his head a little as he logged the information. “What are my duties?” 

 

“You cook, you clean, and you take care of my brat, Nanako.” Kaneshiro said, and reached for the radio, turning it on. Music with a heavy baseline started to fill the car and Yu folded his hands in his lap, understanding the end of the conversation.

 

Yu studied Kaneshiro out of the corner of his vision. Kaneshiro was a heavyset man with slicked back brown hair and a round face. His eyebrows were thin, but he had a neatly-trimmed mustache on his upper lip. As he drove, there was a glint of gold from his wrist as his suit jacket pulled up to reveal an expensive watch. 

 

Turning his attention to the sights outside the car, Yu could not place the hint of trepidation that seemed to curl in his chest. He ran a minor diagnostic on the parts there, but all systems came up normal, so he did his best to ignore it. 

 

Tree-lined streets passed them by as Kaneshiro drove, the location changing from retail to residential. Apartment buildings were numerous and tall and they turned into the underground garage of one, parking in a spot close to the elevators. 

 

Kaneshiro got out of the car without a word to Yu, so he followed after him quietly, stepping into the elevator. The ride up was silent, the elevator opening up onto the fourth floor. Kaneshiro walked over to the apartment labeled 403 and unlocked the door. 

 

“Alright, get to work.” Kaneshiro grunted, waving his hand at the apartment as he stepped in, kicking off his shoes. Yu followed suit, taking his shoes off and lining them up neatly in the entrance.

 

The apartment had a short hall with a couple of doors before it opened into a wide area, modern furniture filling the area. To the right, a large plasma TV was on a stand against the wall, a sofa facing it with a low table between the two. The sofa had it’s back facing the line of tall windows that made up the outer curve of the apartment. 

 

Directly from the hall was a dining table with a white lamp hanging down over it. The kitchen area followed to the right, with a counter separating it from the rest of the room. A hallway lead past the kitchen to the rest of the apartment.

 

Every flat surface in the apartment was covered with mess. Takeout containers, dishes, pizza boxes, papers scattered everywhere- was that  _ mold?!   _ A horrified sensation gripped at Yu's thirium pump, cold running down his spine.  He looked to Kaneshiro, who had sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, but when he didn’t say anything else to Yu, Yu squared his shoulders and got to work.

 

_ Primary Objective: Clean Apartment _

_ Sub Objective: Wash dishes _

_ Sub Objective: Collect and take out trash/recycling/burnables _

_ Sub Objective: Sanitize all flat surfaces _

_ Sub Objective: Assess laundry situation _

_ Sub Objective: Look for clea ning supplies _

_Sub Objective: Meet Nanako_

 

Quickly reorganizing his sub objectives in order of priority, Yu hunted through the apartment for cleaning supplies, finding some bottles under the kitchen sink as well as a host of miscellaneous cleaning supplies.

 

Retrieving the roll of trash bags from the mess, Yu rose to his feet and set about clearing the trash off of every surface. He took a moment to download the correct garbage guide from the city’s servers, then started sorting. The sharp sound of a phone ringing cut through the air and  Yu paused slightly, but continued working as Kaneshiro answered his cellphone. 

 

“Yeah.” Kaneshiro grunted, pausing the TV. Yu pulled wooden takeout chopsticks out of the empty takeout boxes, trying to be unobtrusive with his curiosity about Kaneshiro. What kind of a person was his Master?  “Yeah, no, not yet.” Kaneshiro slung one arm over the back of the sofa, scowling. “I’ve still got some pretty hefty investments, so I’ll be fine for a while, but... Mm. Yeah.”

 

Yu collected the plates off the table, grimacing at the mold that had overtaken one, bringing them over to the counter next to the sink. He paused, trying to find a place to put them. With the sink overflowing and the counter piled up as well, there wasn’t much space.

 

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t beg that bastard for a job if it was my last option in Japan.” Kaneshiro snorted. Yu shifted the plates to one arm to start stacking the dishes on the counter in a more orderly fashion, balancing them carefully. U nable to deny his curiosity, he sent a ping out and connected to the internet, running a quick search for Kaneshiro.

 

_ Kaneshiro Junya, age 28. _

_ Previous employee for Mitsuzo Financial _

_ Currently Unemployed _

 

“Yeah. Say, you want to hit the bar tonight?” Kaneshiro asked, his tone shifting to one more casual. “Yeah, around 10. I had to pick up my fucking plastic maid from the shop. Nah, he got all busted and shit.”

 

_ Alert: Software instability _

 

“See you then.” Kaneshiro hung up, turning the TV back on. Yu worked silently, a strange constriction around his throat. 

 

It took a while, but eventually Yu had all the trash sorted and tied away by the front door. He finished collecting the dishes, bringing them over to the sink and starting to clean up the first batch.

 

“I’m going out.” Kaneshiro said abruptly, switching off the TV. “This place better be spotless when I get back.”  Yu turned to watch him go down the hall and put on his shoes.

 

“Have a good time.” Yu murmured, then the door was shutting. He returned his attention to the dishes, sleeves rolled up as he scrubbed at the mold. 

 

He made it through several cycles of wash-dry-put away before the quiet sound of a door opening hit his ears. He continued his cleaning as the sound of soft steps reached his audio sensors, and a young girl peeked out from the hallway. Wide brown eyes, brown hair pulled back away from her face, her hands were hovering nervously near her chin as she took a half-step out of the hallway.

 

Yu’s gaze fell on the blue-brown bruise peeking out from her sleeve. 

 

_ Alert: Internal temperature rising _

 

“Is…” The girl, who Yu easily identified as Nanako, glanced at the empty sofa, then back to Yu. “Did Father go out?” She asked hesitantly. Yu extracted his hands from the soap-filled sink and picked up a towel, drying them off.

 

“Mm.” He nodded a little, and Nanako’s shoulders relaxed from where they were up around her ears. Her hands dropped down to the hem of her shirt, fiddling with it a little.

 

“So, um. Are you okay now?” Nanako asked, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. Yu went down to one knee, smiling at Nanako.

 

“Unfortunately, they had to reset my memory.” He explained, and something in Nanako’s expression fell. “I’m sure it’ll be okay, though,” he hastened to reassure her, “especially if you can help me out with the things I’ve forgotten.”

 

Nanako nodded. 

 

“Okay.” She said softly. “Um. What do you want to know?” She glanced towards the door. 

 

“Well,” Yu said thoughtfully, “Things you like to do, what you like to eat, stuff like that.” He paused, glancing at the fridge. “Are you hungry?” He asked. 

 

“Oh… I’m okay.” Nanako gave him a weak smile even as her stomach growled. “You need to clean, right? So.. um… you should finish your cleaning first.” 

 

Yu quietly restructured his objectives.

 

_ Primary Objective: Take care of Nanako-chan _

_ Sub Objective: Make sure Nanako-chan is fed _

 

_ Secondary Objective: Clean Apartment _

_ Sub Objective: Wash dishes _

_ Sub Objective:  _ ~~_ Collect and  _ ~~ _ take out trash/recycling/burnables _

_ Sub Objective: Sanitize all flat surfaces _

_ Sub Objective: Asses laundry situation _

~~_ Sub Objective: Meet Nanako _ ~~

~~_ Sub Objective: Look for cleaning supplies _ ~~

 

“Master will not return for some time.” Yu said reassuringly. “He has prior engagements tonight and won’t be returning until later. I’m sure I can make something for you to eat and finish cleaning the apartment with plenty of time to spare.”

 

Nanako looked down at the floor, before nodding.

 

“What kind of food do you like to eat?” Yu asked, standing back up and reaching for the fridge door to check what kind of food they had. 

 

“Um…” Nanako thought for a moment. “I like… karaage, and.. um… omelets and.. oh!” She perked up a little. “I like curry rice, too!” 

 

Yu looked over the distressingly empty fridge, before shutting it.

 

“Hm.” He frowned a little. “We might need to go out and buy some food.” Nanako’s eyes went wide.

 

“Oh, no!” She grabbed his sleeve, looking up at him in distress. “Father doesn’t want us going out, he’ll get really mad!” 

 

Yu hesitated. 

 

“Okay.” He finally agreed, and the panic left Nanako like water draining down a sink. She let go of his sleeve, looking down at her feet. “I can order the food to be delivered, is that okay?” Nanako nodded. Yu went back down onto one knee. 

 

“Are you going to be okay until the food arrives?” He asked, and Nanako nodded again.

 

“I’ll be okay.” She said. “Shouldn’t you keep cleaning?” She asked, and Yu gave her a smile, standing up and re-rolling his sleeves back up. 

 

“Probably.” He agreed. “Do you want to keep me company?” He asked. The smile that appeared on Nanako’s face was brilliant, her pigtails bouncing as she nodded quickly, running over to grab a chair and drag it over by the sink. 

 

“Yeah!” She clambered up to kneel on the seat, watching as Yu started scrubbing dishes again. "So, let me tell you..." 

 

She started relaying information to Yu, who listened carefully as she talked.  Over the course of the next couple hours, as Yu gave the rest of the apartment a deep clean, Nanako kept him company, and Yu silently reaffirmed his primary objective every time he saw her bruises.

 

_ I will protect this girl. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japan has some crazy garbage laws. Garbage manuals that are 44 pages long are not uncommon. How wild is that?
> 
> As always, thank you for your support, kudos, and comments.


	4. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot shorter than I expected. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

_ Date: November 5, 2038, 11:53 PM. _

 

_ PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: LEARN ABOUT DEVIANTS TO STOP THE CAUSE _

_ CURRENT OBJECTIVE: FIND INSPECTOR SAKURA _

_ SUB OBJECTIVE: DISCERN INSPECTOR SAKURA’S PERSONALITY _

 

Akira stepped forwards and grasped a hold of the metal handle of the cafe door. He pushed it open and smoothly stepped inside, ignoring the bright red warning that flashed across his  vision, transmitted by the sign next to the door. NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED. 

 

He cataloged the glances from the patrons and the affronted expression of the worker behind the counter and dismissed them in the same moment. He took one slow glance over the cafe, taking it in. 

 

Cherry wood floors and well-lit, it was a cozy kind of place, with nooks and crannies to tuck yourself away in, doubtlessly popular with students and businessmen alike. A 24-hour cafe that would appeal to a wide variety of people, but there was only one person he was looking for, here.

 

Akira tilted his head politely to the worker behind the counter and turned, walking quietly through the cafe until he reached a table tucked into one of the back corners. There was a mutter of ‘I thought androids weren’t allowed in here?’ as he passed a table, but he kept his gaze on his target, who looked up as Akira approached. 

 

Dark slicked back hair and dark eyes behind wire frames, a pointed goatee with neat sideburns, Inspector Sojiro Sakura was giving Akira a distinctly suspicious expression as Akira took the seat across from him. Sojiro’s hand curled around his mug of coffee- an actual ceramic mug, not a takeout cup, Akira noted- and he brought it up to his lips, taking a long drink.

 

“Sakura-keibu.” Akira greeted him. “My name is Akira. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”

 

_ OBJECTIVE UPDATED: PROCEED TO CRIME SCENE _

 

He could see Sojiro’s eyes lingering on the LED at Akira’s temple.

 

“Yes, I can see that.” He said, setting his cup down. “I got the message from Nijima. Investigating android murders, huh?” His other hand was tapping a pattern idly into table.  _ Ba-dum-press. Ba-dum-press.  _ Akira nodded. Sojiro heaved a sigh.

 

“Why me?” he muttered, almost under his breath. Akira tilted his head a little.

 

“If you are opposed to working with an android, I’m sure that I can ask Nijima-keishi to be assigned to a different partner-” He said, but Sojiro cut him off with a flap of the hand.

 

“No, it’s- it’s fine.” He said, not sounding fine. Akira chose not to press. “This was just supposed to be my night off, but… it’s fine.” Akira also did not say that he has been assigned to Sojiro because it was, in fact, his night to be on call. 

 

“Would you like to finish your coffee before we leave?” Akira asked politely, aware that they were wasting time until they got to the crime scene. Sojiro snorted a little.

 

“Impatient, aren’t you?” He asked, taking another sip from his cup. “Relax. I got the heads up from Oda-kun. Stiff’s been there for weeks. A couple more hours aren’t going to hurt it.” He looked at Akira over the rim of his mug. Akira looked back at him, waiting. The seconds ticked by, Akira watching as a crease started to form between Sojiro’s brows, his eyes tightening a little. Micro expressions of unease or scrutiny.

 

“So.” Sojiro finally said. “What’s with the whole…” He made a vague gesture towards Akira. 

 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Akira said, as politely as he could. The gesture had been  _ incredibly  _ vague. 

 

“You know. The babyface.” Sojiro said, squinting a little. “No one’s going to take you seriously if you look like you’re right out of high school.” 

 

“...babyface?” Akira asked, raising one hand up to touch his cheek without realizing. “I don’t know what you mean.” He repeated. “My form was specifically constructed to fit in with humans and blend easily. Research showed that humans are more likely to respond well to a younger face with a more open-”

 

Sojiro waved him off.

 

“Respond to in a casual setting, sure,” he said, “but in an official police investigation? No one is going to treat you with any kind of seriousness if you look like a kid.” 

 

Akira felt his expression tighten, just a little, before he smoothed it out.

 

“I suppose that may be why they assigned me to such an experienced officer as you.” He said smoothly, his gaze flickering to the couple of gray hairs that were starting to sprout from Sojiro’s temples. Sojiro paused a little, quirking one eyebrow at Akira over the rim of his cup.

 

“Done your research, then?” He asked, something glinting in his gaze that Akira couldn’t quite place. Akira had, in fact, done his research once he knew of who he was to be assigned to. 

 

“You initially ran a cafe much like this one.” Akira said, laying out the facts like cards on the table. Attempting to impress Sojiro, perhaps? Trying to build trust? He wasn’t quite sure. “After some unknown catalyst, you changed career paths and became security for a Cyberlife research station, #0108.” The station that, despite creating incredible strides in android AI technology, was eventually shut down because-

 

“After the death of the head researcher there, you changed career paths once more.” Akira continued, and if he hadn’t been watching for it, he wouldn’t have seen the subtle lines of grief around Sojiro’s eyes tighten at the mention of the head researcher. “You joined the police force, and for the last eight years you have done nothing but perform at a consistently high level, closing cases that others struggled with. As a result of a particularly high-profile red ice bust, you were elevated to the level of Inspector, where you continue to do good, competent work.”

 

It was the most Akira has spoken in one piece since he came online again. By the end, he could feel his thirium pump go into an uptick, a strange heightened pulse. He ran a quick diagnostics as Sojiro stared him down, resetting the flow and smoothing it out again.

 

Sojiro ran his thumb over the curve of the handle of his mug. 

 

“Hm.” His fingers, which had stilled, resumed their tapping. “That sounds about right. Looks like whatever information they shoved into your head was pretty accurate.” 

 

“Not shoved.” Akira corrected him helpfully. “At any time, I can request information and search through a number of servers to obtain the answer to my queries. Cyberlife did not ‘shove’ the information in my head, I went looking for it.” Sojiro’s brows raised at Akira’s answer. 

 

“And why would you go looking for information on me?” He asked.

 

“To understand you.” Akira said, not understanding the question, feeling his head tilt to the side quizzically. “If I am to work with a partner, I would prefer to understand their feelings and attitudes in order to mesh and support them better.”

 

Sojiro looked down into his cup, his lips pursed. He raised it to his lips, tilting it backwards and draining the last few swallows.

 

“Well, good to know your information is accurate.” He said, setting his cup down and reaching for his hat, settling it onto his head as he rose to his feet. Akira mirrored him, following after Sojiro as they left the cafe.

 

“An android investigating the murders of androids.” Sojiro repeated as they walked down the street, Akira following obediently at Sojiro’s side, a quarter-step behind to show deference. “Is there a specific reason they want an android on this?” He asked, looking over at Akira, a odd press to his lips, his brow furrowed.

 

“Cyberlife believes that there is a strain of deviancy being passed along through some kind of connection between androids.” Akira explained freely. There was no need to hide information from his now-partner. In fact, it would even be counter-intuitive to solving the case. “Humans cannot find and track streams of data or patterns in them half as well as other androids. It is my primary duty to interrogate and examine the code of deviants to find and eliminate the deviancy virus before it can spread to far.”

 

Sojiro’s footsteps slowed and Akira’s did as well, stopping next to the other man as he frowned, squinting at Akira.

 

“And they’re not afraid that…” He trailed off as Akira tilted his head a little.

 

“That I, myself, will become deviant?” He guessed. “No. Cyberlife has fitted me with an internal, but separate, device that tests me regularly for any kind of programming that falls outside my boundaries. At the first sign of deviancy, it will isolate the code and quarantine it from the rest of my systems, to be examined later.”

 

“Ah.” Sojiro resumed walking with barely more than a nod. Puzzled, Akira followed after him once more. The furrow in Sojiro’s brow had vanished, but the tight line of his lips was even flatter. The sight of it was concerning, in some way, and Akira triggered a sweep through his system, reminded by their conversation.

 

_ RUNNING SWEEP… _

_ 4 UNUSUAL INSTANCES FOUND _

_ EXAMINING… _

_ 3 INSTANCES DISMISSED _

_ 1 QUARANTINED FOR FURTHER EXAMINATION _

_ SWEEP COMPLETE _

 

Akira got into the passenger seat without another word to Sojiro, allowing the silence to continue until Sojiro saw fit to break it. It was not an  _ immediate  _ sign for worry, that the sweep had already caught one instance, he was an experimental model, after all. He would be more concerned if there weren’t any little hitches in his code from time to time. 

 

It wasn’t a cause for concern. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keibu means 'inspector'. It's the Japanese equivalent of captain or lieutenant. Technically, the correct term for his position is keibu-ho, but it's my understanding that inspectors are simply addressed with the honorific of "keibu" rather than the full "keibu-ho". 
> 
> Sojiro doesn't use honorifics for Nijima because they're good work buddies. It's hard to find information about the proper terms of address in the Japanese workforce because its so gosh darn _complicated_. Using the wrong honorific is a super social disaster at work, so I'm going with the logic that, because Sojiro and Nijima would have known each other for ages, he only uses honorifics for her in formal settings like in front of higher-ups and in "proper" meetings. When Sojiro _does_ use honorifics for Nijima, he calls he "Nijima-keishi". Keishi means "Superintendent", which the American equivalent is Lieutenant Colonel.
> 
> The Japanese police force is very methodical and very segmented and incredibly efficient in some ways, but I also, cannot for the life of me figure out what titles match up to what, so I'm making a wild stab in the dark and hand waving a lot of details. Please be forgiving if I mess up or get anything wildly wrong.
> 
> As always, thank you for any kudos or comments you offer, and I will see you in the next chapter!


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